


Labyrinthian

by pigeonfeed



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adventure, College of Winterhold - Freeform, F/M, Psijic Order, Skyrim - Freeform, high elf, i can feel it, labyrinthian, this is not going to work out, wood elf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonfeed/pseuds/pigeonfeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vallaska, a young apprenticing wood elf at the College of Winterhold soon finds she's way in over her head. But the tables are soon turned when she takes along an unexpected and somewhat unwilling follower. </p><p>I've sort of reworked the whole Staff Of Magnus quest line to better suit my musing. Sorry about that?</p><p>Rated M just in case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Occurrence

**Author's Note:**

> Wow you've actually decided to read this. Kudos to you. I do hope you like it. 
> 
> I wrote this because my favorite character in the whole game (Quaranir) gets about, what? Less than five minutes throughout the whole quest line? Well, I wanted to develop him a bit more. 
> 
> I know I sort of just drop you right in it but I was searching for a place to start that wasn't too long and boring and this is where it felt...right. You got to be familiar with the whole College Of Winterhold questline to get a grasp of this fic. 
> 
> I own nothing all rights go to Bethesda and whoever else. 
> 
> If you think it needs improving drop me a comment.

_I never even wanted to join this stupid college,_ was Vallaska's first thought as she exited the occulary, her hands wet with Paratus' freshly spilled blood. Picking arrows out of corpses was never a fun job, but was perhaps today made worse by the fact that she had had to delve deep into the bowels of Mzulft- a place she was absolulely terrified to step foot in- and wade through hoards of automated spiders and crowds of twisted falmer in the dank darkness. Alone. Her body was tired, her mind was tired and her eyes were unfocused from spending too many hours without any source of light. Not to mention she had a deep scratch on her side from where one of the falmer's axes had grazed her, a painful ice burn on her left forearm and a throbbing headache from the weak poison they like to varnish their weapons in. All for one tiny piece of information. 

 _The only reason I joined was because that haughty bitch Feralda said I couldn't pass through the gate unless I could use magic._ As a general rule, anything Vallaska was told she couldn't do just made her itch to prove whoever said she couldn't wrong. Be it from her adventurous nature or from plain spitefulness she had soon found herself being passed a newly purchased Spell Tome and ordered to cast it on a curious eye embalm carved into the stone floor. Another general rule was that Vallaska didn't much bother with magic- she found it draining and time consuming, much preferring her ebony bow to anything else. It wasn't a common trait among wood elves to actually take an interest in the arcane arts. But, just to prove the smug High Elf wrong, she had done as she was told and ended up...here. 

 _I should have gotten out of WInterhold while I still had the chance. I should have left after proving Feralda wrong. I should have just murdered that guy and went straight back to the sanctuary like I was ordered. Stupid fucking Psijics._ Her expression sour, she turned another corner and squinted into the darkness. Now, which way had she come? The exit had to be around here somewhere. She had the key now. Vallaska cursed softly under her breath and shuffled a few more paces forward, her Dark Brotherhood armor making no noise in the half darkness. Ever since the Psijics had first shown up and warned her of the dangers to come, she had had a bad feeling that her luck was going to turn sour. By now of course Vallaska was used to getting into all kinds of trouble, but she had never been mixed up with fanciful mages before, or huge glowing objects that made men and mer lust for arcane power. Nor had she ever met elves that could appear and disappear at will. She took a few more steps into the gloom and began to make out the faint outline of the door that led to fresh air and freedom.  _Gods help me, if I ever see another one of those psijic mages i'll-_

 _  
_Blinded by a sudden flash of bright white light, Vallaska let out a shriek and bent over, small hands shielding her eyes from the glare. She had spent almost half a day in near darkness and the intensity of the glow was agonizing. New pain flared up in her side, the wound reopened by her quick lunge, warmth spreading as wet blood soaked through her armour. It was more than she could bare and Vallaska let out a small whimper as the light began to recede, leaving the poor elf to wonder if she was blind as darkness enveloped around her once more. After a few moments she let one of her hands drop, clutching at her rib-cage and wearily glanced upwards. A new, softer glow had taken up around the figure of a man much taller than herself. She at once recognized the garish yellow and red robes of the psijic monks and cursed her luck once more, doing her best to straight enough to talk to the high elf in front of her.

He looked at her almost as warily as she was looking at him, like he expected her to attack him at any moment. Vallaska supposed that he wasn't much used to dealing with others outside of his order and her feral appearance was perhaps accentuated by the shadows around her and dim glow cast upon half her face. When he finally spoke it was with no concern or sympathy towards her ragged state but with a calm that suggested he knew far more than he was letting on. 

"You have done well thus far, but trying times are ahead. It is imperative that you return to your college at once. You will be called on to take swift action. Rise to the challenge, and discover what you are capable of. You are on the right path, and you will prevail." He regarded her for a few more moments before the glow around him began to flicker and dim. Vallaska could tell he was about to disappear again and felt an abrupt surge of anger. Who did these high and mighty psijics think they were, giving her orders while she was bent double bleeding for them? If they were so powerful why didn't they do something about this mess? It wasn't hers to clean up and once again she had found herself knee deep in skeever shit. It wasn't fair and it wasn't going to wash with her. 

Perhaps that monk wasn't as wary of her as he should of been. 

Quick as a flash, a ragged gasp escaping Vallaska's lips as she straightened up, she cast a frost spell at his feet, pouring all her anger and all her magicka into that one blast. The psijic stuck fast to the cracked stone floor and she felt a smug flicker of satisfaction as his eyes widened in shock. Not pausing once, Vallaska drew her bow and knocked a poison tipped arrow into place, pointing it straight at the mage's forehead at point blank range. "No." she hissed, her voice rasping from being on her own for so long and a smug grin on her face. "You're not going anywhere. Not till I finally get some answers."

The psijic narrowed his eyes at her and flames began to flare at his finger tips, ready to melt the ice that was restraining him. Vallaska thrust the bow forward right between his eyes and held it there, grin gone and sour expression returned. "Don't even think about it. I'm sick of doing your dirty work. I'm at least owed some answers. Is it really too much to ask for?" 

He sighed infinitesimally and gazed at her with an almost sad expression. "I can't. My order is forbidden to interfere with the lives of others. We're not permitted-"

"You can cut the bullshit right now. You either give me some answers or i'll walk away and you can clean this whole thing up yourselves. I don't work for you or your... _order."_  She sneered, cutting him off. Her side throbbed and she sucked in a sharp breath, both hands now aching to clutch her side. The bow and arrow wobbled slightly. She was going to pass out if she wasn't treated soon. She'd never make it back to Winterhold in this state. Maybe she could rest here for a while. Sleep. The darkness was so warm...

The psijic frowned and crossed his arms. "You know where you need to go. You know what you need to retreive. What more is there? We're not permitted to interfere with the lives of mortals. It _must_ be you. You _will_ prevail." He reiterated. Vallaska felt her strength sapping and her arms turn to mush. It was all she could to keep the bow in place but after a few moments her arms gave out and she let out a groan, stumbling forwards. The psijic began to move, more light glowing at his finger tips, but Vallaska pulled out her matching ebony dagger and shakily held it at his throat. She knew she'd be no use at a fight in this state, she just hoped he didn't. "Don't...move." she gasped out, leaning against the wall for support. But to her surprise, it wasn't flames at the tip of the monk's fingers but a healing spell. He quickly pressed his fingers lightly to her wound and Vallaska felt her cut closing and her mind clearing. She drew back, eyes narrowing, wondering if it was a trick. 

"You really must be more careful. Skyrim would suffer greatly if you were to perish now, so close to the end of your quest." He muttered in his haughty high elvish accent. 

She straightened up. "Your sympathy is overwhelming. Don't forget that I would not be injured at all if you had not sent me on this bloody fools errand to the deepest, darkest gods forsaken places in search of _rumours_."

He frowned again and opened his mouth to reply, but Vallaska was quicker. "But you're right. I do need to be more careful. What I really need is someone here to watch my back to protect me. Someone with good knowledge of this wild goose chase i've been sent on against my will." She stared at him, waiting for him to catch on. He gazed blankly at her for a few moments before his eyes widened once again and he started to shake his head. "No. Absolutely not."

"But why not?" She whined, pouting slightly. 

"I'm forbidden from...I can't...this is not my journey." 

"It's not mine either unless you agree to help me. I'll go straight to the nearest inn and have a nice drink and a good supper."

"This is ludicrous. We did not intend to involve ourselves thus far-"

"Hey, I don't want to be here either." 

"You cannot force me to against my will." 

"Why not? That's what you're doing to me now."

He let out his breath and narrowed his eyes, leaning away from her. She raised her bow once again and pointed it at him. "Come with me or i'll kill you?" she offered sweetly. 

"No. I'm not-"

"Permitted to interfere blah blah blah. You're coming whether you like it or not. I will kill you. _Then_  go straight to the nearest inn and have a nice drink and a good supper. Be done with all this crap."

He glared at her in silence, evidently thinking.  _Of a way to get out of this deal i've forced him into I suppose._ She thought to herself as she waited, bow ready and raised. After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence she spoke up once again. 

"Ok, here's the deal. You come with me and watch my back while I go after whatever bit of crap you send me to get next. In return I complete your stupid little quest, save Skyrim and ask no unnecessary questions. Sound fair?"

The psijic continued to glare at her. Vallaska fought the urge to sigh. She was much too tired for this, she needed to rest and get a decent meal into her and polish her bow. Maybe practice more of those frost spells they seemed to come in handy once in a while. She was just beginning to consider letting the monk go and just dragging her feel along home and getting on with things when he muttered "Fine.", crossed his arms and looked incredibly sullen. "If you think it will help." _  
_

She flashed him a brilliant smile and withdrew her arrow. "I do. And just in case you're thinking of disappearing again, you do that and I swear by the nine divines and every daedric lord out there I will not lift another finger to help your order."

He gave her another glare but said nothing more than "Unfreeze me."

Vallaska happily did as she was told, relieved that she was now travelling with another companion. It would be so much easier and less strained knowing someone was there to watch her back. Especially in dwarven ruins. She shivered as the overwhelming desire to get out of this dank dark ruin crashed over her and leave the tapping of automated feet on stone and startling hiss of unnatural steam contraptions far behind. "What's your name, monk?" 

He sighed and lifted his feet from the quickly melting ice that pinned him to the spot. "Quaranir." Vallaska regarded him warily and wondered if the sulky sighing would be a regular thing. 

"Well then, Quaranir. The exits that way."

 


	2. Containment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well i've had a devastating week. My game file decided to corrupt and could not be loaded, so I lost Vallaska. Then I made a new file on top of the old one, new character, new everything. And THEN I discovered I could reload from an old save point to get Vallaska back but at that point I was really feeling this new character. 
> 
> To make matters worse I married Camila Valerious and every time I walked into to our house all I heard was her manlike voice telling me over and over again about the god damn Golden Claw. 
> 
> So I shot her. 
> 
> Then reloaded and shot that bitch again. 
> 
> Moral of the story? Don't marry a dull manwoman who's more into a gold plated artifact than you. 
> 
> Ah but I bet you didn't come here to read about my life. My apologies, enjoy the chapter.

As the heavy dwarven door slammed shut behind her with a clang that sounded like music to her ears, Vallaska stepped out into the cool night air.  _Fresh air,_ she thought as the icy wind bit at her cheeks till they turned rosy, _By the nine, i'd never thought i'd breathe it again._ How long had she been down in that stinking skeever hole of a place? Hours? She had arrived at the entrance of Mzulft in the early morning dawn, and now it was- what? Almost midnight, judging by the position of the full moon floating high in the starry sky. It could only have been hours, but to Vallaska it felt like days. 

Turning to her newly found- and somewhat reluctant- companion, Vallaska began to shiver in her armour. There was no doubt it was cold on top of Mzulf during the day, but at night it was a whole different story. If they didn't get moving soon he toes would surely drop off.  Or maybe that was her just being overly dramatic. He was standing with his arms crossed, giving the little elf a hard stare that couldn't be interpreated as anything but ' _I don't want to be here'._  Vallaska wasn't sure because of his baggy robes, but it looked like he was shivering too.She was about suggest they get moving when a new thought occured to her. 

"Shit! How are we gonna get back to Winterhold? I came by horse,"- a horse that was tethered round the other side of the mountain she might add, down what appeared to be a five hundred foot drop- "and you came by...by..." She waved her arms in a wide circular motion to represent that zappy appear-and-disappear thing he did. 

Quaranir arched an eyebrow at her, a gesture she more felt than saw as his hood cast half his face in perpetual shadow. He paced forward of the narrow ledge they we standing on and craned his neck to look at the drop of the other side. Vallaska shuffled her feet to keep herself from freezing to the spot and waited for him to say something. Surely the Psijic monk had a bright idea.

The high elf straightened up and turned to face her after a few moments of gazing into the gloom. "The solution to this is simple then." He replied in his haughty accent. "You go by horse and i'll go by," There was a pause and Vallaska prayed to every Divine out there he was going to copy her mad arm waving gesture. But after a few heartbeats he simply finished by adding, _"_ teleportation. _"_ It wasn't a word she had ever come across before and not one she understood.  _Fancy technical mage-speak,_ she assumed, feeling more than a little disappointed that the grumpy high elf had not made a complete fool of himself. Speaking of grumpy high elves, Vallaska remembered she's have Ancano to contend with when she returned and felt her heart sink to her boots. 

"And I suppose you think I was born yesterday. It's not that I don't trust you to show up, Quaranir, but, well, I don't trust you to show up." Vallaska crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. Although the mage had healed the nasty ice burn of her arm, the feirce night air was beginning to burn her all over, and she was sure the pointed tips of her ears were forming icicles. He sighed. "You have my word I shall return. I know better and most what the future holds if you do not complete your destiny. Besides, you only have one horse, and I need to inform my order of your...input." 

She thought in silence, less than convinced. He may of given her his word but she far from trusted the mage. His yellow eyes burned in the darkness as she considered his point, searching for an alternative, anything to keep him in her sight. She had a feeling that if the elf was to disappear now she would not lay eyes on him again until the rest of the psijic order saw fit. They'd probably send someone else anyway. High and mighty orders like that did not tend to respond well to blackmail. 

Moments passed before he spoke again. "In any case, _you_ need to inform your college that i'll be about. I'm less than trusted, especially by your thalmor associate." Vallaska supposed he did have a point there. And if she did tell the other mages he was coming there was a higher chance he would actually stay true to his word. But she really disliked the plan, and disliked the thought of trying to explain to Ancano that she was working with a psijic even less. But there seemed like no other eligable alternatives she reluctantly accepted. "Fine. Two days time. If you're not there by, say, midnight then the whole things off. I'll leave that blasted college for good. Understand?" 

Quaranir leaned forward, still managing to tower over her and narrowed his eyes. "I may have been forced into being your little slave, but that doesn't give you the right to treat me like i'm stupid." And with that the brilliant light flickered round his form once more and the mage was gone, vanished into the darkness like it had swallowed him whole and left Vallaska standing shivering in the cold night air. She sighed and her breath billowed like smoke around her, already beginning to feel more uneasy as the mage left her.  _Best get moving,_ she thought to herself and then stopped and took in the narrow ledge around her. But move where? It was either down or through, and though the thought of the five hundred foot drop into certain death wasn't all that appealing, the thought of delving back into that dingy dwarven ruin was even worse. So, down it was. 

With another heartfelt sigh and one last curse to the divines for letting her into this mess, Vallaska gripped the edge of the ledge and began to lower herself down into the darkness.

-

Several cuts and bruises later, her feet were firmly on solid ground. Well, solid-ish ground, as she was still half way up the mountian, on an icy path that wound slowly down to the ground. Vallaska began a swift jog back to the spot where she had tethered her horse, more to try and warm herself up than the need for speed. She had two days to get back to Winterhold. Her lungs screamed with the icy air and her ribs ached from where her fingers had been too cold to grasp a jutting rock properly and she'd slipped and fallen, but Vallaksa didn't let her pace falter, using the time to think. 

She wondered if Quaranir was actually going to turn up, or if his order would actually let him. It must break a lot of their rules but...they didn't really have much choice, did they? She frowned. What was she going to tell Savos? What was she going to say to Ancano? They had already seen one member of the psijic order and Ancano had made no efforts to hide his contempt and mistrust for the order.

Vallaska tripped over a small boulder in the darkness and almost went head first off the narrow path and down the side of the steep mountain. After that she decided slowing down was the best course of action and began a brisk walk. Besides, she was nearing her camp, anxiety spreading in the pit of her stomach. _Gods, what have I gotten myself into?_

_-_

Considering her run of bad luck so far, it was of absolutely no surprise to Vallaska when she was delayed on her way back to Winterold. Wolves, bandits and even a dragon blocked her path, so when she finally neared WInterhold with a heavy heart and a tired horse it was nearing the two-day mark. She was starving, her mind clouded and distracted and her body weak, but she still wondered if there had been any word from her psijic mage. If she didn't get there soon there'd be no time to explain to Savos. That was if he even bothered showing up. 

Vallaska urged her tired horse into a gallop, a new sense of urgency creeping over her. There was something wrong, she could feel it in her gut, a skill she had developed over time from being an assassin and not getting caught. At this rate she was going to run the poor beast to the ground, but there was not a moment to lose. 

They neared Winterhold as the sun began to set, and Vallaska didn't even bother to tie up her tired pony before she sprinted up the gentle stone incline that led to the college grounds. It was eerily quiet as she ran past the towering stone statue in the middle and flung herself at the doors to the Hall Of Elements, which opened with an echoing crash that caused her to tumble to the hard stone floor, ribs sreaming in protest. Balance was never something she'd perfected, even after all those years of being an assassin. 

Inside Savos and Mirabelle turned to her with shocked faces and Vallaska hauled herself to her feet, eyes widening as the took in the glistening barrier that prevented anyone from enterting into the main hall. She stumbled forward and reached out to touch it, pulling her fingers back quickly as it crackled like lightening. "What...is this thing?" She muttered. 

Mirabelle turned to her, frowning. "We're not sure, but it's stopping us from getting to the eye. We think Ancano is casting it. Gods knows what he's doing in there but it can't be good."

Ancano! What a slimy, sceaming bastard. Vallaska had always known there was something off about him. What in Sithis' name was he doing to that thing? _Wait till I get my hands on him_ , she thought to herself, _i'll send his soul to be a plaything of Sithis in the void._

 _"_ We're going to throw everything we've got at it." Added Savos, drawing closer, hands coming alive with flame. "We need to know what Ancano is doing in there." 

He quickly pushed past her and a gout of arcane fire burst from his palms, hitting the barrier with a deafening crackle. Mirabelle joined in with some frost enchantments, and Vallaska quickly fired a sucsession of arrows at the thing, which bounced off quite uselessly. She quickly conjured some flames, her body and mind too tired to make her attacks very powerful, but the sizzling barrier soon bagan to flicker before giving way completely. 

They staggered in, Vallaska letting out a soft hiss when she saw the thalmor advisor casting some kind of spell at the Eye, slipping into an instinctive crouch, ready to attack. Savos brushed past her, ignoring all of Mirabelle's efforts to warn him away, yelling at the mage to stop. He, of course and in the manner of most villans, didn't, sparing the a scathing glace and a contemptuous half smile before Vallaska's vision sudden burst bright white and she felt herself sailing back through the air. 

She hit one of the pillars painfully, her bruised ribs letting out a worrying crunch, before rolling along the hard stone floor. Dazed, her head spining and mind numb, Vallaska tried to gather her thoughts. Where was she? Where was Ancano? A groan escaped her lips as she tried to sit up, her side throbbing agonizingly. 

"Vallaska! Val, you have to get up." Mirabelle's voices reached her through her confused haze and her eyes searched for the place where the voice had sounded from. A few paces away Mirabelle was propped up against another pillar, face ashen and leg twisted under her in a position that left Vallaska in no doubt that it was broken. It looked like Vallaksa had had a lucky escape, and she hauled herself once again to her feet and stumbled over, leaving against the walls to support herself. 

"You have to find the arch mage. I- I think he was blown clean in the blast. Ancano's put up another barrier between us and the Eye." Vallaska nodded, not trusting herself to speak and staggered out the Hall of Elements as fast as her wobbly legs could carry her, eyes scanning for any sign of Savos. 

The cold air hit her face like a slap, bringing her to her senses and Vallaska quickly trotted over to a huddle of mages gathering near the statue. Peering over, her eyes widened with shock and her heart once again sank to her boots. Before her lay Savos' body, twisted and burnt from the blast. Vallaska had seen a lot of death, and it didn't bother her one bit, but she knew that this had serious implications. Perhaps she had been wrong to threaten to ignore the Eye and the destiny the psijics had laid out for her. What if she was too late now? 

She was quickly interupted from her doom-laiden thoughts as Tolfdir ran over and grabbed her sleeve, swinging her round to face him and making her wince as her ribs jarred painfully. At least one was broken. Maybe even two. If felt like her side was on fire, but she counted herself lucky that her armour had absorbed most of the impact, unlike the thin robes the rest of the mages wore.

"Listen!" He gasped. "Whatever kind of magic killed the arch mage is affecting Winterhold now! The people who live down there are in danger. You must go and help. I'll hold up here and keep an eye on Ancano. Hurry!" 

Vallaska swallowed nervously and nodded, sprinting to the bridge where she could see Feralda and Arniel already hurrying down to help the people. Vallaska felt touched by their bravery and selflessness- after all, she couldn't see the people of Winterhold ever running to the mages aid if they were ever under attack. She certainly had a new opinion of Feralda. 

Arriving to find the two mages being swarmed by...by...what were those things? They loosely resembled ice wraiths, floating through the air in the same jagged motion. She stood there in shock, before letting out a loud yelp as one bit into her shoulder, it's magic shocking her system. Vallaska tore herself away and pulled out her bow, knocking an arrow into place. Though the other two mages were shooting bolts of fire and ice and shock at the creatures, Val couldn't muster up the strength- or will- to even attempt to use magic in this situation. She was officially done with the arncane arts. But, she acknowledged with a sinking feeling, were the arcane arts quite done with her? 

Moving off a few paces to give herself room to take aim, Vallaska fired a quick sucession of arrows at the creature, a few hitting but most being swiftly dodged. The things were a lot faster than ice wraiths. They swarmed around the three mages, biting and shocking them with the very magic they exuded from their being, and quickly overwhelmed them. Vallaska felt herself falling down, her already weak body giving up, legs failing. Her bow was flung from her hand as she crashed to the floor. Vision, blurring and going black at the edges. There was a high pitched ringing in her ears.

 _I'm going to pass out_ , she realized suddenly, swinging her arms about, trying to beat them off with what little strength she had left. _Gods, no. I'm going to die._

_I'm going to die here._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh sorry sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been too busy crying over fictional characters in books and playing Oblivion and crying over fictional characters in Oblivion (i.e Lucien)

The blackness was absolute, broken only by the jagged slashes of the horrors that stalked her nightmares. She was numb, she had no form. No body, no limbs that could lash out and strike at the nightmares, to beat them back. She was just a consciousness, tugged along by the invisible currents of the absolute dark. A dim flash- a memory- a room. Wooden floors, wooden walls. The wood was knotted and splintered, in need of repair, like no one really cared about the place. Sparsely furnished, just a row of beds in the gloom. A half moon shone through the open window- the window she had come through- casting a small amount of light into the room. She was a guest in this house, a visitor. No, not a guest. She wasn't supposed to be here, but nobody knew. Did they? Vallaska struggled to make sense of the situation. Singing reached her from a distance. She frowned, straining to here the source of the mysterious lullaby, her coal black eyes widening when she realized that it was her mouth the soothing notes with escaping from. Singing, she hadn't done that in a while. Why? Not since...since...She couldn't remember. Something bad had happened. Casting her eyes about, she suddenly realized why she was singing. Upon the rows of beds were the vulnerable forms of small children, sleeping lightly. Not a house. An orphanage. She continued to sing, unable to stop herself, and with dreamlike slowness felt one of her hands reach downwards to caress the hilt of her dagger. What was going on? Movement. It was her, her legs creeping forward, every movement feeling like she was moving through thick treacle. She drew the dagger. The singing continued. She didn't want them to wake. They'd alert the matron who slept soundly downstairs. An innocent. Right? The matron wasn't part of...of...the contract? Vallaska let out a small gasp as she realized what she was about to do. But her lips didn't move to form it, save from the haunting lullaby that continued unbroken. Suddenly it was like she was out of her body, watching from the corner of the room. Leaning over the sleeping child. A dagger blade in the moonlight. Crimson blood flowing like a gruesome river to soak the thin grubby bed linens. Moving on. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. She let out a scream, unheard in the noiseless room but echoing through her mind with painful clarity. 

The singing continued until the dream shattered into a million pieces of glass, stabbing into her very soul.  

-

Vallaska sat up, the lullaby gone from her lips only to be replaced by a bloodcurdling scream that ripped up her vocal chords and rang inside her head. She could remember it all. The orphanage contract. The blood. The innocent children who had died by her blade. Their faces haunted her every time she closed her eyes. She hadn't so much as hummed a tune since, and listening to slow songs made her feel sick. Being an assassin wasn't a particularly glamorous job, and she was used to death, but the things she'd done...

Suddenly a hand clamped over her lips with a firm grip. It all flooded back to her. The icy wind slammed into her, snowflakes lightly brushed her cheeks. Ancano, the magical pods...she was still under attack! Somewhat relieved that she'd escaped joining Sithis is in void on this particular occasion, her scream choked off and she started to thrash wildly. Her blades were gone, she was practically defenseless. But she wasn't prepared to go down without a good fight. 

"Gods, calm down will you. It's over." The irritated voice shocked her and she jumped slightly, the implications of the statement failing to permeate into her muddled brain. She thrashed harder, still fearing she was under attack, finding it hard to breathe. 

"Julianos, give me strength." The hand was gone from her mouth and Vallaska choked in a starved breath. She thought it was over, but then two hands gripped her shoulders and shook her wildly, causing her panic to reach critical levels and she screamed again. The clap of a palm meeting her cheek cut her abruptly off. 

Vallaska snapped out of it suddenly and raised her own hand to where she had been struck. Her cheek radiated warmth. She opened her eyes wide and took in her surroundings. Ice and snow. Wooden houses. She was still in Winterhold. Glowing blue piles littered the ground, the only remenant of the fight. Scattered between the heaps of magical debris were crimson spots of blood, sharply contrasting with the snow, but not enough that anyone had been seriously hurt. She breathed a sigh of relief. Continuing with her observations, her heart still pounding wildly. Some spectators, residents of Winterhold, staring at her with wide eyes. Her college mates, regarding her with open mistrust. No, not her. Her attacker, leaning over her, one hand gripping her arm tightly to support her as she sat up. Vallaska realized that the strength had left her, her limbs had all the structural support of a sweetroll. She squinted upwards at him, and eventually made out the face of Quaranir. So he had come after all. And saved her sorry ass no doubt. Two times, he had saved her life. She owed him, a lot. 

Trying to make sense of it all, she rubbed her temples and let out a small moan. Her head felt like it had been stuffed with straw, her mouth dryer than a dragons backside. Quaranir gazed at her with a small amount of concern and a large amount of irritation. "By the nine. Is it so hard for you to actually stay alive? Do I have to watch you like a hawk every waking moment of the day? If I didn't you'd probably trip over thin air and take a tumble over the college bridge. Or slip on the ice and break your neck. It's like you want to die." 

She glared up at him, in no mood to be lectured, still rubbing her sore head. "You hit me." she accused. 

"I had to. You were hysterical." His gaze softened a fraction. "I think you were having a nightmare."  

She looked away and lurched to her feet, only to slip on the ice and almost topple over again. The only thing that stopped her from falling was Quaranir's grip on her sleeve, and he yanked her back up and supported her with his shoulder. She felt the familiar feeling of a warm healing spell flow through her. 

"Stop that! I can heal my self." She spat, annoyed that she had essentially just proved his point right. So much for the grace of a trained killer. She shook him off and staggered forward a few paces, muttering about how they still had Ancano to deal with, trying to block out the humiliation of embarrassing herself in front of her College, half of Winterhold and a member of the Psijic Order. Truly an assassin to be feared, ladies and gents, but she can't even walk across the ice. Her cheeks burned. 

Vallaska pushed past the gaggle of mages, with Quaranir a few paces behind. Amusment radiated from him- did he not take anything seriously? She knew his order was used to letting earthly situations work themselves out but come on- until Arniel Gane stepped forward to block his path. She whipped round and glared.

"W-What's he doing here?" The older mage stammered, regarding Quaranir with open mistrust. "He's not supposed to be. It's his fault we're all in this mess." Quaranir narrowed his eyes menacingly, and Vallaska found herself wondering just what kind of destruction magic his order had been practicing over the years they'd been gone.

Vallaska limped forward and grasped the Psijic's wrist, yanking him along behind her. "He's with me. He's helping save your sorry butts. And it's not his fault. It's Ancano's. Who we're going to go and stop now. To save your sorry butts. So if you don't mind, we'll just be on our way." 

She stalked past as best she could manage considering the exhaustion that had begun to set in her bones. Quaranir followed wordlessly, and satisfied he would continue following she dropped his wrist. The hurried over the bridge, Vallaska taking care not to trip over the edge, and into the College. Mirabelle was waiting for them inside, a frantic look in her wide eyes. Behind her, barely visible through the magical haze was the twisted figure of Ancano, the thalmor still busying himself filling up on power from the Eye. 

Seeing the pair approach, Vallaska's superior limped forward as fast as she could manage and thrust something big into her hands. She gazed down, a frown creasing her brow. What was it? A cylindrical piece of metal, long and curved. It looked like...a door knocker? 

"Something Savos gave me not long ago. You can use it to open Labyrinthian. The only way we can fight this is with the staff. You need to go and get it. Now." Vallaska gazed up at her despondently. Now? She was exhausted, there was no way she was up for a long journey. She'd passed through Labyrinthian once before, and she new the place was littered with frost trolls. It was dangerous. And who knew what monsters dwelled with in? 

Seeing the defeat in her eyes, Mirabelle grabbed her by the shoulders. "We're all going to die anyway if Ancano is allowed to continue. You could take a chance, and save us all by getting the staff. I know you're tried, we all are. But only you can do this." Her gaze slid to Vallaska's companion for the first time. "And i'm sure your...associate...would agree with me." 

Vallaska glanced at Quaranir and sighed. His expression said it all. Save the world, the Psijic Order has chosen you, blah blah blah. Would it never end? Through the bubble of magic wisps of Ancano's mad laughter could be heard. 

She sighed again. "Fine. I'll try. No promises though. And Quaranir, you're coming with me." 

 


End file.
